


don't say it's just a game (i looked at you and it's never been the same)

by RomanticalKat



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanticalKat/pseuds/RomanticalKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin has had University of Arkadia's baseball team running like a well-oiled machine for two years. Well... a few minor hitches here and there, but then, nobody's perfect. Things change when the star of Polis transfers to her school, and to her team.</p><p>[Indefinite hiatus. Reshop, Heda.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't say it's just a game (i looked at you and it's never been the same)

"Batter up!"

Clarke Griffin pulled her face mask down and punched her mitt twice, blue eyes locked onto Octavia and her devilish grin. She flashed two fingers, and Octavia shook her head, nodding toward the player coming up to home plate. Monty, swinging the bat to loosen his arms. Clarke nodded in understanding and lifted one finger instead. Monty was too careful for curve balls, but the ones coming straight on could intimidate him if they're fast enough. His weakness as a batter. Clarke made a mental note to remind him not to flinch at fast balls. Later, though. For now, the girls had a scrimmage to win.

“C'mon, Monty, hit it outta the park!”

“Reyes, focus!”

“Hey, has anyone seen my cup?”

“Come on, team, I said batter up!” Clarke crouched behind home plate as Monty took his place, the two flashing playfully competitive glares. Octavia nodded at Clarke, and Clarke nodded back. Monty was one of their better hitters, but Octavia's fast balls were killer, so Clarke kept her mitt up as her pitcher sent the ball flying. Monty flinched, and the ball slammed into her mitt.

“Strike!” Bellamy called behind her.

“Are you kidding me? Ball, that nearly hit him!”

Monty adjusted his helmet with a grimace. “Sorry, Clarke.”

“You'll get the next one,” she reassured. Sure, she could give him more specific pointers, but... after the scrimmage. She threw the ball back to Octavia and crouched again, this time flashing two fingers.

“Seriously, Griffin?” Octavia lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, pretending to peer closer at Clarke's fingers in disbelief.

Clarke just flashed the two fingers again, this time with passion. It seemed to do the trick, because Octavia shrugged and wound up the pitch. Determined not to make the same mistake twice, Monty put his all into the swing while the ball zoomed below the strike zone. Clarke threw it back to Octavia with a triumphant smile.

“Strike two!”

“You're a cheat, O!”

Octavia moved so quickly that Clarke almost missed it. The ball left her hand and flew straight to Jasper, who just barely caught it in time with his bare hand.

“Jeez,” he called, shaking the sting out of his hand. “Learn to take a joke, Blake!”

“Sore loser!” Octavia taunted, catching the ball when Jasper threw it back. She laughed at the middle finger she got in return.

“Let's go, guys!” Raven bounced impatiently between second and third base.

One more strike and they had the game. Clarke flicked her gaze toward Miller, trailing away from second, then back to Octavia. If Monty hit it into the outfield, Miller would get to home before any of them could blink twice. She locked eyes with Octavia and dragged a finger from shoulder to shoulder, then flashed four fingers beneath her mitt.

The Big O.

So unfortunately named by Octavia, though she did earn naming rights as the creator.

The ball left her hand as if it were traveling of its own accord. Monty tightened his grip on his bat, determined. Good. They needed him determined. It was flying toward home with a speed that Clarke knew intimidated Monty, but he wasn't going to make the same mistake again so soon. So he swung, with all his might, just as the ball started to slow. Too soon. His bat made contact with nothing but air, and the ball zoomed around the strike zone and straight into Clarke's mitt.

“He's out! That's game!”

The girls swarmed Octavia on the pitcher's mound. You would have thought they'd just won the World Series, seeing the way they tossed Octavia up onto their shoulders and paraded her toward the boys' dugout. Clarke pulled her helmet off and dropped a hand on Monty's on the shoulder.

“You gotta stop pulling away from those fast balls.”

“I know, I know. That last one, though. I didn't think you guys would pull the Big O on me, man.” His bat dragged along in the dirt as he and Clarke walked toward their team.

“Yeah, well.” Clarke laughed and draped her arm across both his shoulders. “You guys won last week's scrimmage, we needed a win. Nothing personal, promise.”

“Who's up for post-practice drinks back at home base?”

“Hold up, who said you get to invite yourself back to our house, Jordan?”

Jasper had the grace to look abashed, pressing his hat to his chest. “Raven, c'mon, don't be like that. I thought we were friends.” Then, when Raven seemed unamused, “I got tequila in my duffel bag!”

Finally, Raven cracked a smile, and pulled Jasper into a soppy hug. “I'm driving, bestie!”

“So, we're throwing a party?” Clarke asked Octavia, who had climbed up onto Lincoln's shoulders as soon as the girls set her down. She only shrugged and leaned down to set her chin on her boyfriend's shaved head.

“Don't tell me you don't wanna celebrate our awe-inspiring victory, Clarke.”

“I'm thinking more about the hungover practice we're gonna be having tomorrow morning.”

“Buzzkill.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny her excitement. She was buzzing from the victory, too, even though it was just a practice scrimmage. Alcohol sounded like a good time to her.

“Clarke.”

“Speaking of buzzkill.” Octavia glanced over Clarke's head, then tapped Lincoln to steer him away. “See you back home, G!”

She was gone before Clarke could wave goodbye, rejoining the team as they animatedly discussed their party plans. Clarke scrunched her eyebrows together in a mock expression of fear, then turned to face her coach.

“What's up, Bellamy?”

He held up a folded piece of paper in response. “Email from the dean. Sorry, I wanted to show it to you before practice but I didn't get a chance.”

“You printed out an email? God, you're so old.” She unfolded the page and started reading. Her expression slid from excitement to confusion, to disbelief. “Woods?”

“Woods.”

“ _Polis_ Woods?” Bellamy nodded, and Clarke raised her eyebrows. “The Wolves got champ three years in a row with her, why would she want to transfer away from them?”

“Who knows. But,” Bellamy was very good at sounding like everything was bad news, “she's coming here. She's coming to us.”

* * *

 

Music was blaring by the time Bellamy and Clarke pulled into the driveway. Granted, music was blaring from most of the houses on the street, considering it was a Saturday and this was a student neighborhood. But the Lions blared the loudest. They were big on one-upping.

“I've got a bunch of food in the back, wanna help me carry it in?” Bellamy asked, turning the car off. “I figured nobody else would think to bring any, y'know?”

“Oh my god, yes. What did you bring? Wait, no. Don't tell me. I want it to be a surprise.”

The two shared a laugh climbing out of the car. The night was dark and clear. Hopeful. The perfect spring weather. Nights where the stars were clear were Clarke's favorite, and she leaned against the side of the car with her head tilted up toward the heavens while Bellamy lifted the back hatch.

“We should tell them about it tonight. Woods is getting in on Monday, and I figure she'll want to meet at least the two of us, maybe the whole team.” Bellamy passed her a few bags while he spoke. She took a peek inside. Chips and dip, pretzels, popcorn. Standard party snacks. “That way we can spend practice tomorrow getting them ready to integrate her.”

“Yeah, good idea. God knows they'll be happy to have a calmer practice after tonight.” She gasped when she saw what was in the next bag he handed her. “You're making your burgers?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Bellamy Blake, I could kiss you.”

He laughed, his freckled face looking almost pained. “Do that and I'll never make my burgers again, Griffin, I swear.”

Clarke pretended to deliberate, long enough that Bellamy finished unloading the car and slammed the hatch down. Arms laden with good food, and spirits high with the thought of another good season (new player or not), she laughed again and swaggered into the house with Bellamy.

“You're here!” Jasper was on them as soon as they stepped through the door. Monty was at his side, trying to surreptitiously rifle through the bags. “And you brought food! Guys! Mom and Dad bought food!”

“Alright, alright. Shoo!” Clarke nudged them away, along with the few other teammates who'd started swarming. “Leeches, all of you. Show some self-control.”

“Give it up, Griffin, we all know you just want to hog the Doritos for yourself.”

“I am shocked and offended, Raven. Shocked and offended.” She followed Bellamy into the kitchen, and Raven followed her. “I only hog the cool ranch ones.”

“Blech. You're doing us a favor, getting rid of those monstrosities.” Before Clarke could jump out of the way, Raven grabbed the pretzels out of one of the bags in her hands and jolted out of the kitchen. “Alright punks, who wants some pretzels? Courtesy of your favorite shortstop!”

“If she wanted to take credit for one of the snacks, you'd think she'd pick a less boring one.” Clarke dropped the bags onto the counter and started unloading them, opening chip bags and pulling platters and bowls out of the cabinets.

“I like pretzels.” Bellamy's voice was muffled, his head buried in the freezer. “Tell me you still have ground beef.”

“Thawing in the fridge.” Clarke dumped chips into bowls, opened dips and hummus and guacamole, laid out fruits and veggies, all the while shooing out her hungrier teammates. “You animals can wait two minutes!”

“Sweet.” He finished loading up his arms with ingredients. “I'll be out back.”

“Don't screw this up for me, Blake! These burgers are the only good thing in my life!”

Bellamy's laughter echoed behind him as he stepped outside to the grill. Clarke made quick work of the snacks in his absence, but she lingered, crunching on a few chips and pouring out a drink for herself and enjoying the relative silence of the empty kitchen.

Her team was good. They were always good, but it was different this year. They were tighter, more streamlined. They were finally a _team_ , not just a bunch of kids playing baseball with each other. Plenty of them would attribute it to the countless 'team bonding' parties since the end of last season. But Clarke wasn't stupid. She knew they'd really banded together after Finn... No. She couldn't think about that now. She was at a party, she was surrounded by friends who cared about her and each other, and she was having a good time.

“Griffin!” Raven was magnetically pulled toward the bagel dip, and her next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “We're out of pretzels, the kids are starving out there.”

“Seriously? That barely took, like, five minutes.”

Raven shrugged, picking up the entire tray of bagel pieces and balancing the bowl of bagel dip on top of it. “You worked us hard today, oh captain my captain. We're _ravenous_.”

“Alright, alright. Hold up.” Raven froze with one foot out of the kitchen. “Carry more stuff for me. Here.” Clarke wedged a bowl under each of Raven's arms and thrust the platter of pita and hummus into her other hand. “You make one hot waitress.”

Raven wiggled her eyebrows in mock seduction and led the way into the into the dining room, Clarke following with arms full of food as well.

“Clear up the beer pong, team, we got food!” Raven set the first platter down just in time for a beer-soaked ping pong ball to plop directly into the hummus. The look on her face balanced somewhere between delighted and murderous. “Mbege, get your ass over here, I wanna see you lick the hummus off this ball.”

“That's what she said.”

“That's what she- dammit, Murphy, you beat me to it!”

The team wasted no time in clearing the cups away, eager to avoid Raven's wrath if they messed up the snacks. Or Clarke's, for that matter, who set the food down more tenderly than most people handled a newborn baby.

“Don't fill up too much, guys, Bellamy's making burgers.” Clarke dodged the hungry mob converging on the table and made her way to the liquor table to make herself another drink.

“Bellamy Burgers? No way. Does he need any help?” Monty picked at the veggie platter, piling bell pepper spears onto his hand. “Does the bagel dip have dairy?”

“Uhh, yeah, it's the store brand kind,” Clarke said, tongue stuck between her lips as she poured a healthy measure of rum into a plastic cup. She topped it off Diet Coke and turned back around. “Go ahead and offer your help if you want, but you know he doesn't like people interrupting his method.”

“Oh god, the _method_.” Octavia thundered down the stairs with Lincoln in tow, both looking distinctly disheveled. “Stop humoring him, Clarke, you're gonna make him think he's a real cook or something, I swear. Ooh, Skittles?” She vaulted over the bannister rather than walk down the last few steps. The wood shook dangerously beneath her, and Clarke silently made peace with the idea that she, Octavia, and Raven might not get their security deposit back.

She stayed near the drink table, back against the wall, and sipped her rum and Coke half-heartedly. This was how she'd been spending parties for the past year. Always orbiting the outskirts, making herself busy when she could and staying out of the way when she couldn't. She was more comfortable making sure everybody else was comfortable. It was easy. Focusing on them was easier than... well, the alternative, she guessed.

But Raven goddamn Reyes saw right through her, just like always.

“So, you gonna actually party this time, or are you just gonna do your whole 'Mom' act until everybody passes out or goes home?”

Clarke took another sip to buy her some time. Dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge, that was her motto. It had yet to fail her. “We're getting a new teammate on Monday. From Polis.”

“Wait, what?” She was appropriately stunned. Transfers didn't usually happen, especially not in the middle of the school year. “Dude, seriously?”

“Seriously. You'll never believe who it is.”

“...You're shitting me.”

“Dead serious.”

“Woods, _Polis_ Woods, is transferring to _our team_?”

The conversation died down, and Clarke and Raven felt the heat of a couple dozen pairs of eyes on them. Well, crap. The 'distract Raven' plan worked just a little too well.

“Burgers! I've got cheese, no cheese, Monty's bean burger, there's onions caramelizing on-” Bellamy stopped dead two steps out of the kitchen when he noticed the uncharacteristic silence. There was a beat, full of tension, then the floodgates opened.

“We got Woods?”

“So, when exactly did you find out about this?”

“It it, like, for real?”

“When were you gonna tell us, man?”

“Dude, the girls' locker room is crowded enough as it is.”

“How the hell do you know how crowded our locker room is, Atom?”

“Whoa, whoa, okay.” Bellamy set the platter down on the table and backed away with his hands up in surrender, joining Clarke and Raven by the drinks. “Get your burgers before they get cold, we'll explain everything in the living room.”

The flurry of pandemonium was swift, and thankfully everybody left the table with a burger or two and all their fingers intact. Clarke was one of the lucky ones who'd gotten away with two, Raven was currently balancing three on her flimsy plate, Jasper and Octavia were loading theirs with potato chips, and Monty cradled his bean burger in the corner. The rest of the team was already piled onto the couches and chairs and floor in the living room, and Clarke and Bellamy took their places in front of the television.

“Everyone get a burger?” Bellamy's question was met with a chorus of satisfied hums, perhaps the loudest of them coming from Clarke herself. “Good. Cool. Well.” He glanced at Clarke and she motioned for him to take the lead, considering he was their team manager and she was currently occupied. “I got the email last night. Woods is transferring out of Polis, and she's coming here. Jaha says she'll be joining us starting with Monday's practice.”

“Why's she transferring?” Octavia asked, sitting on the floor between Lincoln's legs.

“No idea. This is good for us, guys. Really good. The Wolves have been our biggest competition for three years. And Woods is the reason why. You guys have seen her batting average. We know firsthand what the odds are of her hitting it out of the park. Hell, she got a double off a Big O.”

“Buncha bullshit, if you ask me,” Octavia grumbled.

“She's good. And she wants to be a part of our team, the _best damn team_ in the league.” The proclamation was met with whoops and hollers. “With her on our team, we'll take down the Arsenals. We'll take down the Mavericks. And we'll knock the Wolves off their pedestal, end their three-year winning streak, and prove, once and for all, that the Lions are the ones to watch out for!”

The energy in the room came to a grand crescendo at the end of the speech, with everybody jumping up, hollering, stomping their feet. Miller got the music going again, and, surging with adrenaline and burger energy, the team sprang back into party mode.

Which was Clarke's cue to leave the room.

Bellamy followed her, smiling sheepishly over another successful speech.

“I keep asking myself. Why would Woods choose Arkadia? Why the Lions? The Mavericks are closer, better ranked in the league. Why come all the way out here?”

“Clarke.” Bellamy watched the dancing in the next room with trepidation and excitement. “Don't over think it. She probably has her reasons, but that shouldn't matter to us. This is gonna be an awesome season, alright?”

Clarke nodded absently, downing the rest of her drink. Unexpected changes were rarely awesome.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it, it's my first writing of any kind for The 100! This is mostly gonna be a fun fic, because season 3 is so stressful sometimes, I swear. It WILL be Clexa-focused (don't worry, Lexa shows up in chapter two!), but still heavy on Clarke and her friends.
> 
> Also, this college baseball league is coed because why not. And I know very little about baseball.
> 
> Hit me up at littlelionclarke.tumblr.com if you want.


End file.
